Not supposed to go like that
by anarchic equity
Summary: Greg has a thing for Mycroft, hell, he s head over heels for the man, but his little brother Sherlock won t leave them alone. So Greg asks a favour of his pal John, with unexpected consequences. AU Mystrade, Johnlock
1. Chapter 1

**Not supposed to go like that**

It was not supposed to go like that!

Fucking hell, it was not supposed to go like that!

- Oh, yeah, let me explain this.

You see. There´s this really hot guy. His name´s Mycroft Holmes. He´s tall, got soft ginger-brown hair, the sweetest smile I´ve ever seen and a really fine booty. His skin is tan and you can spot a few light freckles if you get a chance to take a good look, like I got, being seated behind him in the rowing boat. He´s always polite and got everything under control, hell, he´s not the leader of Alpha Gamma Epsilon for nothing. Some blokes say he´s got a stick up his arse, but that makes him just more fuckable in my eyes. I wanna rip this stick out, stick my thing in and make that reserved guy moan like a…

- I guess you get the idea.

He´s also gay, as is known.

Now you probably gonna tell me "Sounds great, Greg. Go for it." But there´s one problem.

One pale, dark haired, annoying-as-crap problem! "The name is Sherlock Holmes" as he says and he is exactly the unnerving little sibling your best friend in primary school had. He always wants you to entertain him, he always wants to play with you and you're not able to get rid of him, ever! As for me it means he makes fun of my training in police academy, he calls me boring and dull when I suggest he should get a hobby and I can never make a move on Mycroft, because Sherlock is like glued to him. If I would only understand why! They seem to detest each other, yet I guess, Sherlock detests every other person on the whole planet even more, so it makes some sense that Sherlock doesn´t get off Mycrofts´ back for even the second I need to ask him out.

- You see my problem?

So what does Greg do?

Just give up on Mycroft and his soft, Armani-clothed bum?

Hell no!

He does the trick, every second teenager-movie tells you.

If the beauty agrees on a date with you, if you get her ugly sister a guy - you do it.

So when I asked Mycroft to have dinner with me Saturday evening (of course Sherlock was eavesdropping and announcing without being asked, that he wanted to try the new Italian), I told them an old friend of mine would stop by too. And as Mycroft agreed he got that blush… that blush on his cheeks, that wants you to melt.

- Half of the trick was done!

The harder part was to find a friend who was willing to do me a favor.

"Oh, Greg. Which poor pal have you led into this misery?" you might think.

Well, this pals´ name was John. Or assistant doctor John Watson. A good friend of mine. Bi. Not currently in a relationship. We hadn´t seen each other for quite a while now, since we both had no steady work schedule. And when I asked him to meet me and two of my "friends" at a nice little Italian restaurant, he sounded delighted.

I didn´t want to be unfair, so I mentioned, that I quite liked the elder one. He was okay with that. I mentioned further, that the younger brother was single and that I was informed he showed no interest in girls. He grew suspicious.

I don´t want to bore you with details.

Our conversation ended with him, promising to meet us at seven p.m. at the restaurant and me, promising him the biggest steak he´d ever seen on my treat.

- It was all planned out.

Mycroft and I. We would eat great pasta, maybe share some garlic bread, we would talk about nothing too serious. We would laugh, exchange glances and kiss in front of his doorstep.

Sherlock and John. Well… I hoped they would also talk and enjoy their meals, maybe even laugh, but I estimated that possibility not very high.

- Oh, I was such a fool!

Well, I guess you want to know what exactly is going on.

Sherlock and John.

That´s what´s going on.

Precisely it´s their tongues and hands, that are going on.

Sherlock and John.

They´re all over each other.

All over each other!

At Mycrofts´ and Sherlocks´ doorstep.

While Mycroft and I talk like civilized humans, they act on their primal urges, like animals.

And I´m pissed.

Because I wanted to be the animal tonight!

- You ask me what happened?

Well, as far as I can tell, Sherlock and John were instantly attracted to each other. John gave me a thumbs up as we took a seat. We all had pasta and shared a big bowl of salad and a breadbasket of garlic bread. Sherlock was once again right. The restaurant was nice, the music evident, but not too loud, the food excellent. Not so nice was Sherlocks´ table talk, since he had the urge to spill out all possibilities to commit suicide using a Bunsen burner. I could hear Mycroft and myself suck in breath, as he was finished, waiting for Johns´ reply. I half expected him to take a flying leap for the door every second, but then he started to smile, to complement Sherlock. And suddenly the two of them were... in love.

It was quite remarkable.

John couldn´t stop grinning like a fool and practically stared at Sherlock the whole time. Sherlock too couldn´t really keep the smile off his face and his eyes glistered.

Mycroft and I got reduced to mere audience.

And there were only the two of them for the rest of the evening.

- "That´s great Greg, isn´t it? Isn´t that exactly what you wanted?" you might ask.

Yeah, of course I wanted to get Sherlock off his brothers back. And of course at first I was happy for the two of them. At first.

I was not so happy anymore, as they started to make out in the cab right next to me. With Mycroft up front. Unreachable.

- Poor me.

Like I said. It was not supposed to go like that.

But…

"Gregory?"

"Yeah?" Oh, great. I zoomed out on my date.

"Gregory, this evening was very nice and I appreciate what you did for Sherlock." Oh?

"I have never seen him this happy before." His face held that look. Like sadness, maybe loneliness. Was there a slight chance he wanted to become happy too? Like me?

Since all seemed lost I took my chance and his face in my hands.

When John and I climbed into a cab we both had kiss-bruised lips and wore silly smiles.

**Hope you enjoyed it. Show some love and leave a comment. Until next time!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Not supposed to go like that 2**

It was not supposed to go like that!

Fucking hell, it was not supposed to go like that!

- Oh, hey! It´s me again! Your good pal Greg!

Well, I guess since you´ve read the first part of my journey to the soft woods of a certain young mans pubic hair, you know exactly what is going on.

Sherlock and John.

That´s what´s going on.

Precisely it´s their sounds, that are going on.

Let me explain this.

Mycroft and I have been together for quite a while now and we´re a good couple. No, a fucking fantastic couple! We agree on so many topics, like university sports, politics and how to look good in a suit. We encourage each other and the constant loving motivation and genuine critique brings out the best in both of us. We´re both career-driven men and appreciate having someone beside us helping us not to lose our heads over work. And I feel that we are both totally in love with each other. For the first time in my life, I´m totally sure of my feelings for my partner. And the way he looks at me, and his voice changes while speaking to me… I´m totally sure of his too.

- Aw, fuck. I love this guy!

Now you probably gonna tell me "Sounds great, Greg. What´s your problem now?"

You see, my boyfriend (!) and I have not really 'celebrated' our feelings yet.

Do you get it?

Celebration? Private feast? Bow chika wow wow?

Yes. That.

Every chance I get I spend at Mycrofts. Since I share a flat with a few of my fellow cadets, making sweet, beautiful love is kind of out´a question there. (If you aren´t one of the perverts like Donovan and Anderson.) The problem is, that John is sharing a flat too. No, the problem is, that John spends every chance he gets at Sherlocks. No, no, the real problem is, that Sherlock lives with Mycroft.

Some of you might see it as desirable living with your boyfriend, his brother (now more sane than ever thanks to Johns influence) and your new best friend. And really, it was nice. It was. At first.

When sex hadn´t been a topic yet.

When Mycroft and I would just lay there. Holding on to each other.

But since 'it' is going on just two feet away from us at night, it is a topic. Definitely.

It wasn´t such a big deal at first.

When we first heard it, it was kinda funny. Surely, we were shocked. Sherlock, the virgin, without former interest in any physical activities, and John, the nice, cuddly guy, you could always rely on… they were doing it! So we couldn´t believe our ears as the bed just behind the wall started to creak. I really regret not observing Mycrofts´ face, when his little brother started to moan for John to take him deep.

It really was funny. Sending Sherlock glances over the tea and quirking an eyebrow at John over the jam at breakfast.

It was not so funny anymore, when they started having sex every night.

So I lie there, besides the most gorgeous guy I´ve ever met. The guy I love. And nothing´s going on with me. No, well, the little part of me.

I´m sorry, but it´s not exactly a turn-on, hearing the guy who insults you constantly beg your best pal to fuck him already.

So I´m laying there, mildly disgusted, my hand in Mycrofts, not able to look him in the eyes.

- "Talk to John. Since he´s your friend, he´ll understand." you might advise.

Already did that.

A few evenings before, I pulled John aside and pleaded him not to have sex tonight. I described how it would lift a huge weight off of my… shoulders. He promised not to lay a single finger on his boyfriend.

Yeah… right…

The next morning, first he tried to hide from me, finding himself trapped in the kitchen, he stuttered an apology and said something about Sherlock wriggling his hips and blinking at him. "I just can´t keep my hands off him!" he said desperately.

This is how I got stuck in this awful situation.

John and Sherlock.

Doing it like rabbits.

It was not supposed to go like that!

I can´t wait for tonight, since they´re already snogging in front of the telly.

I should have bought earplugs.

"Gregory?"

"Yes, love?"

"We have now been a couple for five months already. And I know it would have been normal if we had already… engaged in sexual activities." Oh, damn. "I… the thing I try to express is… thank you, for your patience." What? "I know, I need a lot of time to be comfortable enough to get close to another person and... thank you, for giving me that time."

I guess I looked a bit blank, so he reached for my hand and whispered in my ear. "Take me to bed, love."

- Want to know what happened next?

No, I´m not gonna tell you.

The only thing I´m willing to share is: Mycroft Holmes is my love.

- The funny conclusion at the end: Mycroft didn´t hear a thing of what was going on between his brother and John.

Sherlock was nice enough to tell me, that Mycroft drifts off almost instantly after laying down, as the little pisser "accidentally" hit my head with a sugar cube at breakfast.

Him and John had dark rings under their eyes and shot evil eyes at us.

**Hope you had fun. Would be great if you´d let me know. Bey!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Not supposed to go like that 3**

It was not supposed to go like that!

Fucking hell, it was not supposed to go like that!

- Hey, folks… Yep, it´s Greg again. Bet you´re already sick and tired of me complaining.

Well, I need to tell you what´s going on again to get it off my chest.

Maybe I´ll feel better that way.

Sherlock and John...

That´s what´s going on... (as you already know).

This time it´s worse than before.

You know that I love Mycroft, adore him with all my heart. Adore his strength, his charm, his intelligence, his (not at all) shyness in bed. And I want to share my feelings with him. But I didn´t know how. I took my time for appropriate preparations (and to spoil myself with a grace period). It was going to be perfect.

But then, John came.

My best pal, that fucking bastard!

- It was all planned out.

Angelo´s again, where we had your first real date, not just lunch together at the cafeteria.

The same table, garlic bread, pasta, red wine.

Light conversation, loving glances.

And as the big finale: The kiss at his doorstep and, looking deeply into his eyes, saying "I love you, Mycroft Holmes". Well… and the obligatory excellent fucking afterwards.

- But then, John came (not in a sexual sense).

When I asked Myc to have dinner with me to celebrate our anniversary John came in, arms full of groceries, having a very content loverboy in tow. Unluckily, they heard my proposal and since it was the day of their anniversary too, Sherlock proclaimed they would join us. Seating the one carton of milk he was carrying on the counter, he shouted through the wall "Angelo´s sounds good. We´re coming."

I was in shock, but what should I do? When Sherlock decided on something, he wasn´t going to budge (I sure as hell knew that already.). I considered for a moment to beat the idea out of him, but Mycroft would probably show me the door if I ever did that.

Ach, what can I say…

You probably know already who my throughout planned evening (now ruined) went.

Myc looked like ´Mister MI6 of the year´ in his dark grey suit, sporting a matching black vest, bordo red bow tie and shiny leather shoes. I bet I sound like fucking Vogue now, but whatever. He was gorgeous! Well… he´s always gorgeous, but this night he was even more gorgeous. …You get the idea?

I wore a suit too. Dark brown. Not that fancy, but my budget for clothing is not the highest and I tried. I tried to look nice for my love, and Mycroft would appreciate the effort.

- And then there were Sherlock and John.

Wearing jeans and jumpers and Converse.

They looked like teenagers forced to have dinner with their parents at a nice restaurant.

Sherlock was the Polo Ralph Loren to Mycrofts Westwood.

John was the Tesco to my Harrods after-season-sale.

We didn´t share a table this time (luckily), but could hear their conversation just fine.

Sherlock´s baritone voice carried words about cheating wives and unpolished wedding bands to us, accompanied by John´s lighter laughter and praises.

Just fucking excellent.

I tried to engage Myc in a conversation, but was constantly interrupted by two younger men's giggles and shouts for a decaying earlobe to go.

We finished our meal in silence, just glancing at each other from time to time, frustrated.

And for dessert, out of the corner of my eyes, I saw my best pal, John fucking Watson, get down to his knees in front of Sherlock.

And… no.

Just no.

I stood up abruptly, almost knocking over the tiramisu in its glass, and slammed the palms of my hands on the table.

Mycroft, my lovely dear, jumped slightly and raised his eyes at me.

From the intensity of his reaction (rather much for a Holmes) I must have really shocked him.

I shot the two idiots a furious look, but without being able to look Myc in the eyes, I left the restaurant in a hurry.

- Oh Greg, what have you done?

What have you done, indeed.

I´ve just fucked it up.

The best relationship I ever had.

I fucked it up.

- Oh Greg…

I don´t know how much time went by, maybe an hour, maybe just a minute, but it felt like a year to me. Eventually I heard fine Italian leather come in contact with a large puddle beside me.

Someone hovered over me for a second, casting me in shadows, then sat down.

I could smell cologne, fine wine and something sweet.

How I would miss this smell.

"I really appreciate what you´ve tried tonight, Gregory."

I could feel a warm hand on my shoulder, an arm slipping around my body, pulling me closer.

I sighed.

I only wanted Myc to show him how much he meant to me.

He deserved expensive dinners, and high-class chocolate, and shiny watches.

But I´m not able to give these things to him. Probably never will be.

I wanted to give him the only thing I had.

My love.

Mycroft laughed lightly.

"But you should have known, we will never be able to enjoy our dinner with my brother and his boyfriend present."

And now he was going to break up with me for my bad temper.

I deserved it.

I just wasn´t good enough for a Holmes.

"…I love you, Gregory."

...

I blinked and finally realized the situation I was in.

Sitting on a dirty bench in Regents Park at ten p.m. soaked to the bone with pickpockets most certainly already leering.

And Mycroft Holmes, minor government official trainee, was with me.

Maybe, maybe,…

It was supposed to go like that.

**Hope you enjoyed it. I´m gonna let Greg rest for a bit and maybe come back for an extra. Would be lovely if you left a review. Hope to read you in one of my other stories. Bye!**


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